


I Don't Date Football Players

by hughie87



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2558948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hughie87/pseuds/hughie87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark wonders if Chloe just might be more to him than he thought. Will he and Chloe both have the courage to overcome their fears and insecurities?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Date Football Players

**Author's Note:**

> Set after season four's 'Devoted' and inspired by a line from Amy Smart in 'Varsity Blues'. This was also nominated for a 'Best Long Het. Fanfiction' award. :)

 

"Wow. So. . . 60 yard pass to win the big game at the last second," Chloe started hesitantly as she and Clark strolled across the almost vacant football field. "You're gonna be, like, some superhero around here. I just might have to do an article on you."

 

 

"Does that mean you're back at the Torch?" Clark asked.

 

 

"Yeah." Chloe nodded. She took a deep breath. "Since I'm not very good at ignoring 500 pound elephants, I'm really sorry that I made things so ridiculously awkward between us."

 

 

With a smile, Clark told her, "You know, I thought you made a great cheerleader."

 

 

After a nervous laugh, Chloe said, "Yeah, lets never talk about that again, okay? Look, Clark." Chloe stopped and turned to face Clark, reaching out to touch him briefly on the forearm before pulling her hand away self-consciously. "As much as I would like to blame the pom-pom juice for this, I obviously still have those feelings in me somewhere."

 

 

Clark watched Chloe toggle up and down on the toes of her flip-flops, fidgeting her fingers together rapidly. She waited with nervous patience for Clark to respond.

 

 

"Chloe. . . I wish I felt the same way, but I don't. At least, not right now," Clark told her gently.

 

 

Chloe's eyes filled with shimmery tears from either his answer or the embarrassment she must have felt, Clark wasn't sure which. With a herculean effort, Chloe smiled.

 

 

"I know that. And I accept it. I just hope we can keep our friendship," Chloe told Clark sincerely. "Except now, you're gonna be, like, big man on campus." Chloe laughed again, a merry sound even through her quavering lips.

 

 

"Well, I'm hoping my new editor will keep me in line," Clark replied, smiling down at her. Chloe tried to blink the tears away while shaking her head, making it seem like she was trying to shake her blonde hair out of her eyes. She lifted her face to him again, her eyes meeting his somberly. "I'm gonna make time for the Torch."

 

 

A slow, shy smile spread across Chloe's face, a smile Clark hadn't seen since he asked her to the Spring Formal that day in his barn a little over two years ago. It did something funny to him. Clark's face shifted as his stomach went queasy.

 

 

"Wow. Superhero and a journalist. What are the odds?" Chloe pondered aloud as they looked at one another. Chloe's eyes still held budding tears threatening to fall, but she smiled warmly through them. Clark stepped closer to her and bent down, pressing a kiss sweetly against her smooth cheek.

 

 

Returning to his full height, Clark was dismayed to see the bright smile had disappeared. Chloe pressed her lips into a thin line as Clark watched her eyes swerve from his and then back again.

 

 

Her mouth quirked up again at it's corners. "I'll see you, Monday." She gave him a small smile, telling him she needed some time, but they would be okay. Chloe turned and made her way toward the school. He didn't know when or how he'd come to understand Chloe's smiles. He just did. They'd always been able to communicate on some other level, it seemed.

  
As Clark watched Chloe walk away from him, another funny thing happened. His heart flipped.

 

***

 

 

Clark sat in the loft on his ratty red sofa, tossing the football up in the air and catching it as it fell back down. After Chloe left him standing in the middle of the field, disconcerted by what was going on inside him, Lois Lane, Chloe's annoying older cousin came up behind him. As hard as he tried, he could not recall what was said between them. Something about broken legs and broken hearts and maybe a visit from Metropolis. He hadn't heard a word. He was still thinking about the way his heart had flipped and his stomach tying itself into knots.

 

 

At first, Clark wondered if he was feeling effects from some the leftover Kyrptonite Chloe was exposed to given the nausea stopped when she walked away. But realized later, it was how he reacted whenever he remembered that slow, shy smile and how it felt when his lips touched her cheek. Thinking of the exchange, his stomach and heart flipped all over again.

 

 

Evening continued to darken around the farm. Clark could hear his mother puttering in the kitchen, making dinner. His father was watching a football game he'd taped Sunday and muttering about the Sharks' defense. And still Clark sat. It was odd. When he came up here the other day, to this very loft, _to this very couch_ , to find Chloe clad only in his football jersey and nothing else, Clark had been simply scandalized. Now, it was all he could think about.

 

 

_"Hey, Mom? Can I talk to you a second?" Clark asked his mother yesterday morning. He thought about asking his dad, but concluded his mother might be more in tune with the female psyche._

 

 

_"Of course, honey. What's up?" Martha Kent responded, pouring him a glass of orange juice._

 

 

_Clark took the glass, rolling it thoughtfully between his palms as he put together his words. "It's about Chloe. Um, she came on to me last night. Pretty strong. I'm worried about her," Clark halted, feeling the blush creep up his neck as his mother stopped packing his gym bag to give him her undivided attention. Out of the corner of his eye, Clark saw the uneasiness beneath her collected expression. "Don't worry, nothing happened."_

 

 

_"I thought the two of you agreed to be friends," Martha said after a sigh of relief at Clark's honest admission._

 

 

_"We did," Clark replied, perplexed. "And then she pulled a one-eighty on me."_

 

 

_"Maybe Chloe's decided life is too short to bury her feelings anymore. How do you feel about her?" Martha asked._

 

 

_"The problem is I'm not over Lana yet. Sometimes I don't think I ever will be," Clark answered with a mix of anger and sadness._

 

 

_Martha laid a comforting hand on Clark's shoulder. "Oh, sweetheart. There's someone out there for you. I know it."_

 

 

_Clark nodded absently. "So, what do I do about Chloe?" Clark asked, his need for advice still at the forefront of his mind._

 

 

_"If you don't feel the same way, just be honest," Martha told him sagely._

 

 

Clark thought he was being honest. But if he felt nothing for Chloe, then why did he react the way he did?

 

 

Clark admitted he'd had a crush on Chloe since they were fourteen and once, she'd felt something for him, too. Then suddenly, she'd only wanted to be friends. Going along with what he thought Chloe wanted, Clark ignored his growing feelings and turned his attention back to his childhood crush, Lana Lang. Later, when he was fifteen, he found out Chloe still had feelings for him and he found himself, once again, torn between Chloe and Lana. But this time, his feelings for Lana were stronger than the crush he still harbored for Chloe, especially when he found out Lana felt something for him in return. However, as all things with Lana and his secret, it went sour and Clark was left with a bad taste in his mouth. After a rocky patch, Clark and Chloe were able to put their friendship which a tornado had derailed back on it's track after they both turned sixteen. One hell of a year and a painful faked death later, things seemed to be settling down. Clark and Chloe, now closer than they'd ever been, were ready to enjoy their Senior year together at Smallville High.

 

 

Chloe was his best friend. She'd been his best friend since they were thirteen. She would continue to be his best friend if he wanted her to. Did he want her to? Did he only want to be friends with Chloe? He didn't know if he was over Lana yet or just holding onto the _idea_ of Lana. Would it be fair to Chloe to attempt something with her when he may still have feelings for Lana? It all came back to those heart palpitations and stomach cartwheels. Clark racked his brain, calling to mind all the instances he'd been around Lana since she'd returned unexpectedly from Paris. It was nice to see her around school again, but he didn't feel the rush of warmth that he felt when he thought about Chloe. He hadn't encountered any heart irregularities around Lana recently or had a split-second need of a shot of Peptobismal. But was what he was feeling real? Or just the response to a pretty girl saying she liked him? Was he finally ready to give up on him and Lana? For good?

 

 

"Clark?"

 

 

Clark looked up, finding the loft to be almost dark. His mom, bathed in the light from the dying sunset, stood on the landing, her hand resting on the railing.

 

 

"Yeah, Mom?"

 

 

"I've called you about five times. Dinner's ready," she told him.

 

 

Clark look back at the football in his hands. He'd been so lost inside his head that he hadn't even heard her call. "Thanks, but if you and Dad don't mind, I'm going to skip it. I'm not that hungry tonight."

 

 

Is this about Chloe? Your Dad and I saw you two taking a walk across the field after the game. Are the two of you. . . Okay?" Martha asked, taking the final step up into the barn loft.

 

 

"I think we will be," Clark answered slowly, his tone unsure.

 

 

Martha gauged his face. "Good. I know how much her friendship means to you."

 

 

"It does. With Pete gone and Lana and I operating on 'Acquaintance' mode, I feel like Chloe's the only friend I have left. And I don't want to screw that up," Clark told his mom, as if he was arriving at some kind of decision.

 

 

"Chloe has always appreciated your honesty, sweetie. I'm sure this time is no different," Martha responded. She watched as Clark continued to eye the football. With the keen sense of a mother she'd perfected over the years, Martha spoke again. "But, that's not what is bothering you, is it?"

 

 

Clark looked at Martha before he returned his gaze back to the ball covered in pig skin. "Chloe admitted she still has feelings for me. Without the liquid courage," Clark finally answered softly.

 

 

"And how does that make you feel?" Martha questioned patiently, coming over and taking a seat next to her son.

 

 

A ghost of a smile played across Clark's mouth. "The same way it did when I found out in ninth grade. Happy and excited and scared all at once."

 

 

Martha remembered a similar conversation between her and Clark back then. People would have had to have been blind not to see how Chloe adored Clark when they were younger. Martha had read the same expression on the girl's face today as Clark walked toward her this afternoon with his bag slung over his shoulder: it was the one Chloe wore that afternoon before she and Clark left for the Spring Formal. Apprehensive yet open and warm, the expression of someone who was falling in love.

 

 

"Clark, are you sure you don't have any feelings for Chloe besides friendship?" Martha suggested.

 

 

"I don't know, Mom," Clark replied. "Today, when we were talking she smiled at me, like she always does, but my stomach tied itself into knots. Then, I just, you know, kissed her on the cheek as a, well, friendly thing and my heart went all funny."

 

 

Martha hid a knowing smile. She and Jonathon had watched from the top of the bleachers in the stadium. She could tell by how distracted Clark seemed afterward something had happened.

 

 

"But, yesterday morning you said you didn't think you were over Lana," Martha pointed out.

 

 

"That's just it," Clark started, real confusion coating his words. "I've always liked Chloe and she's always been my best friend, but I've always had these unresolved feelings for Lana. . . " Clark trailed off. He stood and walked to the open window, looking out. Martha could tell he was looking toward Smallville.

 

 

"Clark," Martha ventured tentatively, remaining seated. "Are you sure you're not using your feelings for Lana as an excuse not to get closer to Chloe? In more than a friendly way?"

 

 

Clark turned and looked at his mother, something very close to fear in his eyes.

 

 

"Sweetie, I know you're scared that you won't be able to make a dating relationship work because of your secret. But if you think you have feelings for Chloe, you owe it to yourself and to her to try. I think Chloe may be different, but you'll never know until you try."

 

 

"But what about-"

 

 

"Lana?" Martha finished for him. "Clark, I'm not trying to belittle your feelings for Lana, but you're only seventeen, honey. I'd give yourself some time before you begin mourning your one great love." Martha sat back and regarded the strong, handsome profile of her son. "You are so mature in so many ways, but we could all be as old as Father Time and still not understand all the mysteries of love. Your feelings for Lana were very real, but maybe they were only a stepping stone to something more. You'll never know, though, unless you open yourself up to that possibility."

 

 

"But what if something goes south, Mom? I don't want to lose Chloe. Despite all our rough spots, she's always been there for me," Clark replied quietly.

 

 

They both heard Jonathon calling faintly from the house. Martha stood. She walked over to Clark and laid a loving hand against his cheek. "I'm afraid that's a risk you may have to take. Only you know what is inside your heart. If what you feel for Chloe is friendship or more and what you decide to do with it."

 

 

Clark smiled at his mother. "How did you get so smart, Mom?"

 

 

"I've had a couple of chats with Father Time myself. Usually every year around the 27th of May," Martha told him with a soft chuckle. "Don't stay out too late." She removed her hand and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek before she walked down the stairs.

 

 

Clark turned back to the open window and looked toward town. He knew. He knew the moment he had held Chloe in his arms that day in the metal factory, so grateful she was alive, all the old feelings came rushing back. He just hadn't stopped to notice it. He would always feel for Lana. You never forget your first love, even if it was Puppy Love. Somewhere inside him, he knew he and Chloe could have always been more, but he was always running away. From Lana, from Chloe. . . He didn't want to run any longer. Whatever he and Chloe shared was worth the risk.

 

 

Clark pushed away from the window and was gone, leaving only a cloud of disturbed dust in his wake.

 

***

 

 

_Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter like unrequited love. --Charlie Brown, Peanuts comic._

Chloe hummed along to The Cardigans' "Erase and Rewind", the perfect song to fit her mood when she placed the Never Been Kissed soundtrack into the CD player in the Torch office. The school was deserted, the hallways blissfully silent and the classrooms sleepily dark. She was totally alone and at peace with herself. Sort of. The Torch office was bathed in dim light from a few lamps stashed here and there. At the moment, Chloe sat in her chair, swirling what little coffee she had left around and around in her cup. Open on her computer was the digital format of the Torch, page one. Chloe stared at it intensely, as if any moment it would speak to her, giving her the answer to her dilemma.

The headline space was blank and had been since she'd came here directly after the game. Chloe glanced at her watch. Five hours. Five hours she'd been here stuck between 'Smallville Crows Newest Recruit Delivers' or 'Jocks Gone Wild!'. Unfortunately, both dealt with football players which indirectly led to Clark which inadvertently reminded her of the humiliating scene of gigantic proportions dealing with the quarterback and his personal Cheerleader-For-A-Day. This morning, she'd found glossy prints of her and her "Clark Spirit" tacked up and down all the walls of the school. Ducking her head and running to class, she came out to find all the pictures stuffed into a garbage can, thanks no doubt to the golden-armed football player himself. Chloe groaned and closed her eyes. She'd be doing the walk of shame from this pom-pom bender until Graduation. How could she still look Clark in the eye? Especially after today?

Chloe snapped her head back up and blew out her breath slowly, gently ruffling the waves of hair feathered around her face. What a fool she'd made of herself. How many times did Clark need to make it clear he was _just not that into her?_ One more time, apparently. After all the work she'd put into this friendship, after all the times she made sure she was Ms. Hospital Corners with Clark, her inner-most thoughts and feelings were aired like it was an episode of Lifetime's Intimate Portrait: Chloe Sullivan. _And the football jersey_? Well, that was just the red icing on the green Gatorade from Cupid's Hell-Hole flavored cake. Even when she'd been poisoned by Love Potion #666, Clark still looked out for her. What were friends for, though? And that is what they were. Friends _. F-R-I-E-N-D-S-, friends._ Chloe didn't understand why she needed it spelled out for her, she knew that line by heart.

One small comfort was it was Friday night. She wouldn't have to face Clark until the harsh light of Monday morning when she and him would collide outside their lockers in the mad dash for Mr. Lipnitz Government class. Chloe sighed. At least she had fifty-eight Clark Kent free hours ahead of her to hang her head, eat ice cream and watch tragic romance movies like 'Love Story' or 'Titanic' or 'Somewhere In Time'. So, maybe she would need to skip 'Somewhere In Time' this weekend. Unless, she wanted to be the one focusing on a penny in order to go back in time. On second thought, that didn't sound like a bad idea. Maybe she could go back and dump out all the spiked Jock Water on the ground before anyone had the chance to take sip. Sure, her dad would find her sprawled on her bed in a catatonic state, likely to never wake again, but did that matter? Then she _really_ would never have to face Clark Kent again.

"Whoa. . . Suicidal is not a good color on you, Chloe," she whispered. Sitting up straight, she set her cup on the desk by the computer. Pulling herself closer, Chloe's fingers flew over the keyboard.

"Smallville's Newest Heart Throb it is, then," Chloe decided courageously. She did say that she would do an article on him. However, that did mean she would need to _talk_ to him between now and Monday. Chloe's shoulders hunched inward. A second later, she shrugged. She could always shoot the questions at him on the way to class Monday morning. Clark had always been able to keep up with her insane pace.

After saving the title, Chloe closed the program and turned off the machine. She knew she could write the article and then fill in the spaces with Clark's answers later but she'd had enough of feeling like Charlie Brown with a mouth-full of peanut butter. Pulling out her cell, she called the house, wanting to let her dad know she was heading home. It rang and rang and rang. When the answering machine picked up, Chloe left a short message before ending the call. She quickly tried his cell. As the call was kicked straight to voicemail, Chloe remembered Gabe Sullivan was at all-night poker game in Granville. A couple of Luthorcorp buddies still got together every month for some good old fashioned male bonding over penny antes.

As Chloe put away the phone, she weighed her options. She didn't feel like walking into the big, empty, dark house alone. She could make the hour and a half drive to Metropolis to help Lois get setup in her new dorm room, but being in a closed room with her cousin was not on her fun list for tonight.

_"I may not be in his house anymore, Chloe, but I can still make his life a living hell," Lois offered in the Torch office before she and her packed SUV left for the higher education of Met U. "Just say the word."_

Chloe hugged Lois, told her to be safe, call when she got there and they would see each other next weekend. Another conversation titled "Ways to Kill Kent", even with her sore heart (and pride) did not sound particularly appealing to her at the moment. Lana came to mind, but Chloe quickly dismissed her. Her best friend came back from Paris toting not only a sassy new wardrobe and a more secretive personality, but a mysterious boyfriend currently enrolled in CKU. Summoning up some hopeful optimism though, Chloe pulled out her cell again. Hitting the third speed dial button, Chloe hoped Lana would answer.

"Hey, Chloe! Looking for your next caffeine fix?"

Chloe laughed. "Actually, no. I was looking for a best friend fix. I know it's late, but are you up for an all-night DVD-a-thon with some giant scoops of Chocolate Chunk ice cream?"

"That sounds great!" Lana exclaimed before she sighed. "But I'm at CKU helping my English Lit challenged boyfriend with his paper on Heart of Darkness," Lana finished, sounding genuinely down-beat.

"Ewww. . . Can't navigate the literary device infested waters of Conrad's prose by himself? He has my sympathies," Chloe replied with a shiver. "Will you two be pulling an all-nighter?"

"Looks like it. Why?"

"I finally talked my dad into having some fun and to stop worrying about me so he's at an all-night poker game in Granville. I don't feel like being in my house by my lonesome tonight. Would you mind if I crashed at the Talon?" Chloe asked.

"Not at all, but, Chloe, do you need me to come back? He can pinpoint the motifs himself," Lana offered with concern.

"Oh, no, Lana. I'll be fine. I just don't want to be alone in that big house, so if you don't mind having a squatter for a night," Chloe replied.

"You can squat anytime you want, Chloe. Hey, what about the Kents'? Clark would probably be up for a DVD fest," Lana suggested.

"Yeah," Chloe said slowly. "We're still kinda-"

"In an awkward place?" Lana finished for her.

"Times five."

"Been there. I understand. Do you still have the key I gave you?"

"Yep, right here next to my 'COFFEE ADDICTS ANONYMUS' membership key chain! Thanks, Lana. I really appreciate this," Chloe told her.

"You let me live with you for almost two years. A night doesn't even come close to the IOU's you have stock-piled with me," Lana responded.

"Which I will be cashing in some of those IOU's for some much needed girl time when you get back from the CKU Love Nest."

"Sounds like a plan!" Lana said happily.

"I'll let you get back to Marlowe and Kurtz."

"The horror. . ." Lana said before she and Chloe hung up laughing.

 

***

 

Parking her car on Smallville's deserted Main Street, Chloe got out and glanced around. All businesses were locked up and dark, except for the hardware store. Chloe smiled when she realized Milton accidentally left the neon "OPEN" sign on again, blinking in the display window. A lone car passed as Chloe circled her own vehicle and stepped up on the curb outside the Talon. She fiddled with her keys until she held the coffee shop's master in her hand and stuck it in the lock. Turning the key and pulling, Chloe felt the door catch. She jiggled the key a little more and heard the bolt lock scrape but it still didn't budge. Taking a calming breath, Chloe righted the key and tried again. With all her strength, Chloe leaned on the key and turned it clock-wise. Groaning, Chloe worked the door, pushing and pulling it. She stepped away and slapped the door in frustration. With a huff, Chloe turned to go around back. She collided with a solid object and bounced back with a yelp. Hands grasped her waist to steady her as Chloe flailed for balance. Chloe lifted a fist to swing out a her assailant. Her fist flopped back to her side like a limp fish when she recognized the placid sea-green eyes of her best friend.

"Clark," Chloe sighed in relief. Then she glared at him and shoved his helping hands away. "You scared the crap out of me! You need one of those bells they make for cows. I didn't even hear you truck!" Chloe peered around his broad shoulder. "Where is your truck?"

"Sorry, Chloe," Clark apologized, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets, ignoring her question. "I was on my way to the Torch when I saw you trying to break into the Talon. All the signs of a junkie, Chlo. I think it's time for an intervention."

"Thank you, Dr. Drew, but that's not what I am doing," Chloe replied with heavy snark, her hands settling on her hips. "My dad is out of town and I didn't feel like being home alone tonight. The house Lex set us up in is nice, but seriously oversized for the two of us." Chloe paused for a breath before continuing. "What were _you_ going to the Torch for? I thought you'd be toasting your victory around a bonfire in someone's back forty."

Clark rolled his eyes before smiling down at her. "I was looking for you," he explained. "I went by your house first but no one was there and when no one showed up after a while, I assumed you were probably at the Torch. Anyway, what are _you_ doing?"

"Oh." Chloe laughed when she realized she never did answer him before. "Lana said I could crash here for the night or until my dad gets back from Granville."

"Do you want me to come home with you tonight? I can keep you company," Clark suggested.

Chloe cocked an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, Clark, my dad likes you, but he doesn't like you that much," Chloe said with a grin. "I'd also really like to avoid anymore mentions in Smallville High's illustrious rumor mill and I don't see that happening with Dawn Stiles as my neighbor. Thanks for the offer, but I'm just going to stay here tonight." She turned back to the door and tried forcing the key one more time. "If I could just get the door open!"

"Here, let me," Clark shouldered Chloe gently aside and turned the key. The lock slid open effortlessly. He smiled proudly at Chloe who was gaping at his side.

Catching his prideful expression, Chloe rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just open a pickle jar while you're at it?"

Feigning hurt, Clark pulled the door open and held it for her. "After you," he directed as he motioned inside with an arm.

Chloe put a hand to her chest and gasped. "And here I thought chivalrous football players were a myth," Chloe quipped with a smirk as she sailed under Clark's arm.

Clark followed her in and stopped to lock the door behind him. He turned to watch her swing around behind the counter. She reached up to turn on some lights so they could see more clearly and the stereo system. Soft rock filled the empty coffee shop. Chloe swayed a little to the music, her hips catching the beat.

"I knew you were good for something," Chloe continued to tease Clark over her shoulder. "I may just have to keep you." Chloe turned with a wide smile toward to the clear dessert counter and pulled up short. Clark stood about two feet from the glass counter, staring at her intently. Chloe felt her smile falter and her mouth go dry. She swallowed before asking, "You okay, Clark?"

Clark's gaze lessened and he smiled easily. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You want some coffee or something?" Chloe asked, her voice still slightly uneasy.

"Sure." Clark nodded. "Whatever you're making." He closed the rest of the distance and took a seat on one of the bar stools, his green eyes almost clinging to her.

Chloe turned gratefully to the cappuccino machine and pressed the start button, listening to the delicious hiss as it came to life.

"So. . ." Chloe started as she set two large mugs up on the counter in front of Clark before turning back to the cappuccino machine and pulling a couple of levers. "What has you breaking our standard mandatory 48 hour awkward hiatus policy? I didn't think I would be seeing you until Monday morning at 8 AM for our hem-hawing session at the lockers."

"I wanted to talk to you," Clark repeated simply.

Chloe furrowed her brows. "Yes, you did tell me that." She twisted around and grabbed one of the mugs and positioned it under the spout, letting the frothy liquid pour into the cup. "What did you want to talk to me about?" Chloe asked, her back still turned. Once the first cup was filled, she set it in front of Clark before swiping the other one. Clark, zipping quietly into the kitchen, retrieved the Reddi-Whip from the refrigerator. When Chloe turned back around with the second cup, Clark was sitting on his stool spraying generous amounts of whipped cream into his mug before doing the same to Chloe's, which she had set down on the counter.

"Where did you get that?" Chloe demanded as she pointed at the white canister Clark was currently re-capping with it's signature red lid.

"From the kitchen," Clark answered obviously. Chloe regarded him with shrewd eyes. "Cinnamon?" He didn't wait for her to answer before he sprinkled the spice in big arcs over her cappuccino.

"Thank you," Chloe said, rounding the counter and taking a stool one over from him. Clark furrowed his own brows at her conscious distancing. She took a sip. "You still haven't told me what you wanted to talk to me about, Clark. Make like some milk and spill."

Clark chuckled at Chloe's odd turn of phrase. He replaced the Cinnamon shaker in it's holder and snatched up the Hazelnut, garnishing his own drink with it. What would be his opening line? That he came searching for her to see if she could give him 'the feelings' again? Clark was a new student to the art of picking up women and the execution of the maneuver was no less daunting with his best friend as the target.

"I just wanted to talk to you," Clark began. A slow, shy smile spread across Chloe's face and Clark felt his stomach do _the thing_ again. "We kind of left things in a weird place," Clark finished.

The smile was replaced by a tiny smirk. "Didn't you read the contract? It's a requirement in our friendship clause that every couple of years you or I make the other uncomfortable. I don't think we'd know what to do with each other if we didn't."

"It does make things interesting," Clark responded.

"Usually for me. Like I said, I'm really sorry. Especially about the barn thing! I can't believe I-"

"Chloe, I don't need a reminder," Clark told her as she shook her head, a pretty pink flush warming her cheeks. "I think that image is seared into my memory."

"Well, send me the bill for the therapist you'll have to see about the nightmares," Chloe joked sarcastically, watching her drink closely as she moved the whipped cream around with a straw.

"I don't think I'll be having nightmares anytime soon about that escapade," Clark told her. Chloe's head shot up as her hand stilled, her eyes wide. "I am still a guy, Chloe."

Chloe's mouth opened and closed, resembling a fish out of water. Her heart sped up and her palms began to sweat. She recognized the heat swirling around in Clark's eyes as he gazed at her now, something she realized she had been ignoring since they stepped inside the Talon. It shocked her out of her silence.

Holding her body in a rigid frame, Chloe ground out between clenched teeth, "If you came here tonight looking for a repeat performance then you're out of luck, bud. My lap dancing days are behind me." She hopped off the stool, anger lighting her eyes. "And might I say that a few Cinnamon sprinkles is a _lousy_ tip."

Chloe grabbed her mug and tipped it over Clark. Hot coffee splashed onto his lap and Clark made the conscious effort to yowl with pain and dance away from her ungracefully, knocking over his own stool in the process. The pain wasn't real, but the shock was. He stared at Chloe with eyes the size of marbles.

"Ice is in the kitchen. Maybe that will cool you down," Chloe informed him coldly. "Lock up when you leave." Chloe turned with a flip of her blonde hair and stalked toward the stairs.

"Chloe!" Clark called. She didn't stop.

Clark gave up the act and followed her. This was not going as planned. She began climbing the stairs _. "Chloe,"_ Clark growled in frustration. He'd come on to her too soon. Clark shook his head. He had almost no knowledge of this subject and as usual, Chloe was his learning curve. _"Chloe, please!"_

"What, Clark?" Chloe had made it to the landing in front of Lana's apartment door, her hand poised on the doorknob. She whipped around to face him, tears glittering in her eyes. Clark halted on the first stair, his hand resting on the railing. "What? I tell you I still have feelings for you and you tell me you don't feel that way. Then you show up here tonight, feeding me this line of how you 'just want to talk to me'. What did you come here for tonight, Clark? Did you want to try and take advantage of my feelings for you? To see how far I would go? To see how far I would let you push me?"

It was Clark's turn to gape. His jaw worked but nothing came out. Finally, "Chloe, that's not it at all. If you'll just give me a chance to explain."

Chloe took a breath. She leaned against the door and crossed her arms, hooking one ankle behind the other. She was dressed in the same tank and cargo pants as she was this afternoon, only she had thrown a light gray cardigan over it. It was unbuttoned and hung to right below the ribbon she used as a belt. She had on jeweled flip-flops that made her a few inches taller than she really was. Her toes, just peeking out from under the cuffs of her hip-hugging pants were painted a neon orange, the color matching the lace edging on her tank. She held his gaze. "All right, Clark. Here's your chance."

Her prophetic words scared him a little.

Clark began to crest the stairs slowly, ready to break into super-speed if Chloe so much as twitched. He was tired of being scared. He owed it both of them to take a chance. His feelings for Chloe had always been there, right beneath the surface. If fostered he knew, like he knew when he'd found the right pair of boots or when Chloe found the right sentence structure, they would be the perfect fit. Clark had never wanted to lose the safe harbor Chloe represented for him, though. Despite not knowing his secret and despite their fights in the past, Chloe was the one person he could always be himself with. She never expected him to be anything more than just Clark Kent. But he couldn't deal now with seeing her around town or pass her in the hallway or even sit beside her in the Torch and know that because he was afraid, that their chance had passed them by, maybe to never come around again.

Frozen in her spot, Chloe watched Clark climb the stairs toward her. His eyes were locked to hers and Chloe knew if she even wanted to move, she couldn't. Clark would catch her like the feral tiger catches the winsome deer. This was not the sweet, unassuming farm boy who had walked with her on the football field. This was someone different. He was still in his blue t-shirt, worn jeans and work boots. His arms were swinging casually at his sides but his hands were clenched. What if this was really why he'd come? She'd never thought Clark would be so callous as all the other meat-headed jocks they went to school with, notching up their bed posts after each visitor. The Clark Kent she thought she knew would never use anyone like that. He would never use _her_ like that. Clark took the final step and stood before her, his head angled down toward her.

Reaching out, Clark tentatively fingered the delicate bones in Chloe's wrist. Standing this close to her, he was always reminded of how little she actually was. Lana was small, too, but she was long and lean with muscle. And while that was appealing, Chloe was petite and rounded everywhere, her softness belieing the sharp mind and biting wit coiled within her. His fingers slid from her wrist down to her fingers, lacing them with his own.

"Clark," Chloe murmured, trembling where she stood, just a whisper on an inch from his body.

"I came here tonight," Clark began, his own voice almost a whisper. "To tell you that I lied to you today out on the field. What I told you was a lie."

Chloe swallowed. "Which part? The Torch part or the. . ." She swallowed again. "Other part?"

"The part where I told you I didn't feel the same way about you," Clark clarified, lowering his head slowly. With his other hand, he wrapped it around the back of Chloe's neck, holding her head stationary so she couldn't dart away from him.

Chloe felt the heat of his hand radiating down her neck and spine, flooding her belly with warm butterflies that flapped wildly. Clark's eyes were still open, peering into hers as his mouth hovered over her own.

"Why do you think you lied?" Chloe asked.

Clark raised his brows slightly. "Because ever since then I've been wondering why I told you that when it seems it isn't true," Clark answered.

"Clark, how can I be sure?" Chloe questioned in a tearful whisper. She couldn't go through this again with him.

"Shut up and kiss me and I'll show you," Clark growled as his lips closed in on hers.

"Clark." Chloe turned her face away and brought her free hand up between them, laying it on his chest. She looked back at him, her eyes searching his. "Whether I like it or not, you know how I feel about you. If we do this, there is no going back. There is no reset button, no new game, no 'just friends'. If I let you in and. . . That's it. I won't be able to force myself to go back again."

Clark pulled back, dropping Chloe's hand and looking down at her. He felt as if he'd received a punch to the gut. He really had hurt her back then and had continued to hurt her as time went on. But she'd continued to be his best friend, listening as he moped about Lana, ignoring all the bald faced lies he'd fed her, covering for him in tight spaces and even baby-sitting his sad, violent alter-ego in Metropolis one summer.

"I'm not Lana, Clark," Chloe started softly, stepping away from him, her arms held loosely at her sides. She had to make him understand. "I'm not soft and I'm not feminine and I'm not perfect. I'm pushy and snappy and have an addiction to anything caffeinated. I'm moody and one of the smartest girls you'll ever know. Lois annoys the crap out of you and she hates your guts and I love her for it. I'm loyal to a fault and I don't have a mute button. I'm obsessed with the truth and the Wall of Weird and I'm insecure about almost everything. I'm _me_. I like me just the way I am. And I will _not_ be a stand in and I will _not_ be a rebound." Her voice had gained strength as she spoke, her face slipping into a serious expression.

Clark was silent for an eternity. He tightened his jaw. He was back at square one again. Chloe had basically stripped herself emotionally bare to him and it was his turn, which meant telling her about him. The _real_ him. Would she understand? Would she look at him differently? Would she accept him? Would she see him as her next big scoop? The one thing that always stopped him with Lana was fear: fear that she would look at him as a _thing_ , not a _person_. Something inside him knew Chloe wouldn't do that.

"Listen," Chloe said after she'd stood for minutes watching Clark battle his inner self while staring through her. She was going to give him the easy way out again. "It's been a long day and I really wanted to get some sleep, so why don't we-"

"You're right." Clark cut her off. "It has been a long day and you are going to need some sleep."

Chloe nodded curtly, not surprised but still unprepared for the lance of pain that pierced her. Her mouth formed a tight line. "I'll see you Monday, Clark."

Chloe turned her back on him, grasping the knob. She closed her eyes wearily as Clark wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. Anger welled up and spilled out of her. "Clark, don't-" The breath was stolen from her lungs as she felt herself being flattened from all sides as the world seemed to spin on it's axis. She felt her feet leave the ground and then touch down a few seconds later and when she opened her eyes, she was looking at the side of a brick building.

_"Touch me,"_ Chloe released on an exhale. Suddenly, loud street noise seemed to filter in. The jarring effect from a silent coffee house to horns honking and people screaming thrummed in her ear drums and Chloe wanted to cover her ears to block it out. She was dizzy and disoriented and felt as if she was fixing to vomit. Chloe closed her eyes again and took a few steadying breaths. After a few minutes, when her senses seemed to have adjusted, she opened her eyes again and looked around. She was standing on a city sidewalk. Over to her side, stood Clark, watching her apprehensively.

"Where are we?" Chloe asked.

Clark looked up. Chloe followed his line of sight and gasped. Way up, with the velvety night sky as a backdrop, spun the golden spire of Metropolis.

 

***

 

Chloe twirled and looked at Clark, ignoring the few people who were coming in and out of the revolving doors of one of the most widely read newspapers of the world. Clark looked back at her, hands in his pockets, his eyes gazing at her warily.

“We're in-” Chloe couldn't hardly believe it enough to say it.

“Metropolis,” Clark supplied.

Chloe nodded. She glanced around her and then closed the space between her and Clark. She took his wrist and drug him around the nearest corner to the alley running right beside the building. She stopped and turned to face him, looking up at his handsome face.

“How are we in Metropolis?”

Clark licked his lips. “I brought us here.”

“Yeah, got that. _How_?” Chloe asked again.

“I, uh, ran.”

Chloe lifted her eyebrows. “You. . . ran.”

“Yes.”

“You made a trip that take almost two hours by _car,_ probably almost half a day on _foot,_ in 2.7 seconds and you _ran?”_

“Hm-mmm.”

Chloe looked off the side, placing a finger on her lips. “This explains why you weren't in your truck tonight.” She looked back at Clark. “This actually explains _a lot.”_

Clark stood there silently, just watching Chloe, his eyes wide.

“Got anything else you'd like to share with the class?” Chloe asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“You want more of show and tell?” Clark questioned.

“You mean, there's more?!” Chloe asked excitedly, stepping closer to him.

“There may be a few. . . other things.”

Chloe's jaw dropped. “Like what?”

Clark took a deep breath.

Chloe stepped even closer, laying a light hand on his arm, making sure Clark was looking at her. “Clark, you can tell me. Nothing will change how I see you.”

“Chloe, I'm different.”

Chloe laughed softly. “I already knew that. It's one of your better qualities.”

Clark smiled down at his best friend who was wearing her game face. He had started this, he needed to finish it. “Okay.” Clark reached for Chloe's hand and pulled her to the middle of the alley. He gripped her waist and pulled her to his side. “Hold on tight.”

Chloe wrapped her arms around Clark's waist and laid her head against his chest. She felt Clark go into a deep squat and then suddenly, spring up. With a surprised squeal, Chloe clung to Clark as they sailed into the air and it brushed wildly past them, grabbing at her clothes and her hair. Clark landed them agilely on the roof of the Planet. She peeked out and looked around at the skyline of Metropolis.

“Oh my god. . .” Chloe breathed, stepping away from Clark and going and looking down to where they had been standing only a nanosecond before. She turned back to Clark. In a tone of awe, she asked, “What are you?”

Clark blanched. Not knowing how to answer, he shrugged a broad shoulder. Chloe began circling him, reminding Clark of when he'd told Pete a few years ago. He didn't say anything, just waited for Chloe to stop in front of him.

“How long have you been like this?” She asked.

“For as long as I can remember,” Clark answered.

“Was it the meteor shower?”

Clark shook his head. “I think I was born this way.”

“How? Was your mother somehow exposed?” Chloe didn't wait for Clark to answer. “That can't be possible. There have been no other meteor showers except the one in Smallville and you would have been three at the time. _You_ must have somehow been exposed at some point, probably over the years just living in Smallville.”

“It's not the meteors, Chloe. This is just how I am. The meteors actually make me sick. Kryptonite-”

“What's Kryptonite?”

Clark mentally kicked himself. He hadn't been ready for that part of the conversation. “Its what the meteors are made of. There from a planet called Krypton that exploded.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Because that's where I am from.”

Chloe kept a straight face. Then her brows furrowed. “Are you saying you're some kind of. . . Alien?”

“If you're into labels,” Clark said with rolling eyes.

“Like 'E.T. phone home' alien?”

“I like to think I'm better looking,” Clark said nervously.

“Okay, so. . . You're saying you weren't even born here but on some distant planet called Krypton that exploded? How did you get here, then? Are there more of you out there?” Chloe questioned.

Clark's face darkened. She'd gone into reporter mode. “You know, Chloe, I wanted to tell you so you would know the truth, but if all you're going to do is turn it into some big selling by-line then I made a mistake.” Clark turned and began to walk away.

“Clark, wait!” Chloe called, grabbing his hand. “I didn't mean it to sound like that. I'm sorry, it's just-” Clark stopped and looked over at her. “It's a lot to take in.”

Clark wrapped his hand around hers. “I know. And I understand if you're skeptical.”

“The Clark Kent I know doesn't lie,” Chloe said and then smiled sarcastically. “Except on certain occasions.”

“I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“It's okay, Clark,” Chloe replied, laying a hand on his chest tenderly. “Loose lips sink ships and God knows I've sunk my share of flotillas.”

Clark nodded.

“But if you tell me, I promise it will never cross my lips. I would never want to be the iceberg to your Titanic.”

“If anything, Chloe, you've been a life-boat,” Clark told her.

“Why don't we sit down and you start from the beginning?” Chloe suggested after she was sure her voice wouldn't break

“Sit down where?” Clark asked, gesturing to the empty roof around them.

“This was your choice of venue so make do,” Chloe said as she plopped down on the cement, resting her back against the ridge that sheltered the roof from the wind. Clark joined her.

He started at the beginning. He told her everything Virgil Swann had told him and then later, what the disembodied voice in the caves told him. He told her about his powers, how new ones kept cropping up. He told her how scared he was when he was sure they would never stop coming and what would happen if he one day couldn't control them. He told her about Krypton and the meteor shower and the rocks. He told her about Green K and Red K and what they did to him. He told her everything he could think of and then some.

Chloe sat beside him, holding his hand in her lap and asking him prodding questions when he seemed to need a direction. She listened attentively and her eyes never left Clark's face. When Clark's tale finally came to an end, Chloe blew out her breath. She looked out over the expanse of the roof to the other side.

“It's been you this whole time,” she murmured.

Clark cocked his head.

Chloe turned her head and looked at Clark with moist eyes. She brought a hand up and caressed his cheek. “You've saved everyone and took zero credit for it. I think you're so amazing. If more humans were like you, the world would be a better place.”

Clark blushed under Chloe's adoring gaze.

“To me, you're more than just a hero. You're a Super-hero.”

Chloe held Clark's gaze for a moment before she leaned in and kissed Clark softly. When she pulled away she grinned slyly at him. “So, am I going to get a peek at what else is beneath the hood?”

“You're not freaked that you just found out your best friend is a space man?” Clark asked in disbelief.

Chloe thought for a moment. “No. You're still the same person. And deep down I think I always knew there was something different about you, other than your apparent addiction to flannel.”

“And you're okay with it?”

“Clark, as far as I'm concerned, the fact that you're an. . . alien, just adds character.”

Clark tucked a strand of hair behind Chloe's ear. “I guess I've gone too far to stop now.”

Chloe held up a hand and ticked off two fingers. “Faster than a speeding bullet and can leap tall buildings in a single bound.”

“Super hearing, x-ray vision and. . .” Clark trailed off. His heat vision was the one ability he'd left off his resume. If there was one power that would weird her out, that would be it. But that wasn't the one Chloe latched onto.

“X-ray vision? Like, you can see _through_ things?” Chloe's eyes widened as Clark refused to meet her eyes. “You _can!_ Do you? For. . . recreational use?”

“No!” Clark exclaimed. “At least, not lately.”

“You _have?!”_ Chloe pulled back and pinned Clark with a glare. “Have you ever-”

“Only once.”

“Clark Kent!”

“I was high on Red K. It was when we got our school rings and-”

“Well, I bet that was the high-light of your Sophomore year! Did it ever occur to you that you were invading her privacy?”

“Chloe, it's like getting drunk for me and- Wait, whose privacy?” Clark demanded, wondering what Chloe was talking about.

“Lana's!”

Clark furrowed his brows. “I've never seen Lana. Well, there was one time when it was first starting but it cut off before I saw anything.”

“Then who have you x-rayed?”

Clark swallowed. “You were implying Lana when you asked, weren't you?”

“Who else?”

Clark bit back a laugh. He looked sideways at Chloe and raised his eyebrows.

Chloe's eyes widened more. _“Me?_ You _x-rayed_ me?!”

Clark opened his mouth to explain.

“Clark! How could you? I can't believe-” Chloe stopped. She began laughing. “I'm actually strangely flattered.”

“You can hear that story later,” Clark said, wanting avoid any other mentions of his Red K exploits.

“So, _x-ray_ vision and super hearing? What's that like?”

“I can zone in on things. Heart beats, voices in crowds, fingers typing on key board. I always know when you're in the Torch because I can hear you hitting the keys.”

Chloe smiled softly. “When did that come in?”

“Last year, when I went blind for a little bit after the jewelry store robbery.”

“Compensating of the senses. Interesting that it would happen to you, too. But it didn't go away after you got your sight back?”

Clark shook his head.

“Okay, what else?”

Clark looked at her with confusion.

“You said super-hearing, x-ray vision and. . .?”

Clark sighed. “Heat vision.”

“Heat vision?”

“Let me show you.” Clark turned his head and focused on a bare spot of wall adjacent to them. He flexed some muscles in his eyes and let the fire come shooting out. He heard a soft gasp from his side. In neat letters, he singed 'C.K. + C.S.='

After he was done, he looked back at Chloe. “I'll let you fill in the blank.”

“Wow.” Chloe said, staring at what he'd done. She looked back at him. “You're certainly a step up from little green men.”

“I would like to think so.”

They stayed talking on the roof until the sky began to lighten. Clark looked around them, the horizon over Smallville painted a pale pink.

“Looks like we need to get going,” Chloe said.

They both stood. Despite the fact that Chloe had spent the whole night leaning against his side and holding his hand, Clark still felt restrained. He held out his hand to her.

“Do you trust me?”

Chloe looked at him, her face telling him what a silly question that was. “With my life.” She placed her hand in his. Clark pulled her to him, tucking her in at his side. Chloe, prepared for the jarring effects of the ride, steeled her stomach and clung to Clark as he raced them back to Smallville.

Clark let Chloe down outside the back entrance of the Talon. He pulled the keys he had plucked from the counter before he zipped Chloe to Metropolis out of his pocket and dangled them in front of Chloe. When she went to take them, he yanked them back.

“Chloe, I told you all this for a reason,” Clark said.

Chloe nodded.

“I meant what I said earlier. I have feelings for you and I want this to work. And it wouldn't have worked if you didn't know everything.” Clark cleared his throat. “Does knowing all this change how you feel? About me?”

“Yes.”

Clark ducked his head.

Chloe stepped closer, putting her hands on Clark's chest and looking up at him. “It's like waking up one morning and finding out you dad is Santa Claus. At first, it seems so unbelievably cool, but then you realize, Santa Claus doesn't just belong to you, even if he is your dad. He belongs to the world. That's how I see you right now. You're my Santa Claus.” Chloe slipped her arms around Clark's neck. “Not only that, I have to figure out if I am brave enough for this. Do you understand that?”

“I wasn't kidding when I said you were going to need some sleep,” Clark joked.

Chloe tightened her grip and hugged him. Clark buried his face in her neck, wondering just where they would go from here.

 

 

***

 

  
Chloe clutched her bag tighter on her shoulder. She sat in her car, gazing at the students pouring into the school. She looked at the digital clock. It read seven-fifty-two. She looked around, wondering if she would see Clark's truck. All the times he'd missed the bus and then appeared magically. Chloe rolled her eyes and laughed. It was right in front of her, what he'd been hiding all these years. She'd had her suspicions, but they were nothing like what she'd found out Friday night. Not that Clark wasn't already amazing on his own, he had to go and out-do himself. Her very own super-hero. Chloe smiled warmly at the thought.

The morning she'd gotten back from Metropolis, she staggered to the coffee machine and poured herself a mug of stiff, black coffee. She collapsed on one of the sofas and sipped until Lana came in to open. She seemed surprised to find Chloe not only down in the shop, but awake and staring into a purple mug while running her finger around the rim. The girls opened the Talon and then went and had breakfast at the Diner, giggling over eggs and waffles. Chloe seemed distracted and Lana didn't press her, knowing Chloe well enough to recognize the Clark-mope.

At home, Chloe stayed in her room, curled on her bed while reliving the moments she'd spent with Clark. Her dad knocked on her door a couple of times, worried that she might be sick. She assured him she felt fine, just had a lot on her mind, which was the understatement of the century. Her best friend, the boy she'd been secretly in love with since she knew boys even existed. . . Was an alien. A super-powered alien who had appointed himself Smallville, Kansas' personal bodyguard. He had trusted her. He'd trusted her with this giant secret he and his parents had been guarding since Clark could walk. More unbelievable than that, he felt something for her, too. Clark, in all his farm-boy wonderfulness, wanted her back.

That was the part Chloe found almost too good to be true. For years she'd stood on the side-lines watching Clark alternate between the bench and the field in his and Lana's game of 'Will We or Won't We?', wishing and hoping one day he'd see her faithfully waiting. Now he'd seen her. But what would she do? At the tender age of seventeen, Chloe knew she had enough issues to keep her in therapy until she was seventy. And one of those issues was control. The ball was in _her_ court. If she volleyed back, Clark would have control. That scared her to her very core. Could she risk it again? She escaped almost unscathed. But she was older now. She would like to think she'd become wiser, but that wasn't the case since she still spent most nights dreaming about the perfect boy who she'd found out _really_ was perfect. And Clark wanted her now.

What happened two or three months down the road, though? She wasn't the easiest person to deal with at times. It was also clear that he was destined for more than just plowing fields and raising cattle. Would there be room for a small-time reporter with big dreams in his life? And did he want her merely because he couldn't have Lana? Maybe. But why tell her his secret? From their exchange on the field, Clark was aware that Chloe had feelings for him and how easy that would be to exploit. Instead, he shared more of himself with her than she ever thought he would. That had to mean something.

The clock now read seven-fifty-nine. She still wasn't sure if she'd made the right choice. Chloe turned off her car and got out, waving at a few people. She arrived at the doors. Taking a deep breath, she pulled one of them open and stepped inside.

At the far end of the hall, she spotted Clark talking to a girl with long, raven hair. Chloe pushed the insecurity away. It didn't matter anymore.

 

~ ~ ~

Clark leaned against the his locker. He lifted his arm and looked at his watch. Seven-fifty-two, the hands told him. Clark pulled a face and looked again out over the sea of mingling students. Chloe was usually at her locker around seven-fifty, waiting for him before they went off to class. He gazed at the locker next to his. They'd had the same lockers since Freshmen year, side-by-side. He smiled. It was almost as if the universe had been trying to them something for a long time now.

He didn't know what was going to happen. Chloe might never mention his lie again. Clark knew he would not pursue her if she didn't. Chloe had given him many chances in the past, the last one being the moment on the football field. Even though he went to her that night, he may have already blown it. Maybe the alien thing was too weird, even for Chloe.

No, she hadn't rejected him out-right. She'd kissed him instead. But she'd had a few days to think about it. Maybe she'd come to the conclusion she couldn't deal with it. The thought of the first person he told rejecting him; the thought of _Chloe_ telling him no, felt like Kryptonite in his stomach.

“Nice to see you again, Clark.”

Clark's head shot up. “Hey, Lana.”

Lana smiled at him before leaning against Chloe's locker. She eyed the cup of coffee in his hand. “Still haven't found her, huh?”

“Not yet.” Clark replied. He'd stopped by the Talon on his way to school, hoping Chloe would be there. He didn't see her and when he asked Lana if Chloe had been by yet, she shook her head. He ordered Chloe's usual. “When I didn't find her in the Torch I decided to take up my post here.”

“You must have something pretty important to tell her,” Lana observed.

Clark shifted his eyes from the watching the door to look at Lana. There was something in her eyes, like she was restraining herself from asking him a question. It had gone unspoken for years, but Clark knew now Lana was aware that he had hid something from her. Something he was willing to share with Chloe.

“You could say that.” Clark replied.

Lana smiled tightly and folded her arms across her chest. She pushed away from the locker and snapped her feet together. The sound of her boot heel on the tile reminded Clark of a door clicking shut. Lana turned her head. Clark followed her eyes and saw Chloe weaving in and out of clicks and groups, heading their way. Lana turned back to Clark, a genuine smile gracing her pretty face. “I'll the two of you later. Good luck.” She reached out and patted his arm before she left him. It was at that moment, watching Chloe walk toward him, her eyes darting around her, that Clark knew that he and Lana were over, had been over for a long time.

Clark stood a little straighter and smiled as easily as he could as Chloe arrived at her locker. He held out the to-go cup of coffee with a gruffer 'Good morning' than he intended.

“Thanks, Clark,” Chloe replied as she took the cup from him. Their fingers touched and Clark felt his heart flip. He knew Chloe felt the same from her expression. Her lips parted slightly and before Clark would stop to talk himself out of it, he swooped down and kissed Chloe. Cheers and hollers and wolf-whistles went up around them and when Clark pulled back, Chloe was staring at him with wide eyes.

Chloe clamped her mouth shut and felt her face heating. She looked around her as applause broke out and saw a teacher breaking away from a group to see what may be causing the ruckus. Not looking at Clark, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him behind her as she made her way to the Torch office. Clark followed willingly.

Once inside, Chloe shut both doors. She leaned against one of them before turning to face Clark. Her face was unreadable and Clark ignored the apprehension starting to form in his body. She gazed at Clark for innumerable seconds before she took a deep breath.

“I was up all night,” she started, taking a few hesitant steps toward him. “I was trying to think of a way to tell you this.”

Clark's shoulders slumped. He knew he'd been too late. Chloe had been right there the whole time but he'd been too blind and stupid to realize anything. The many speeches he'd given Chloe over the years came back to haunt him. Now he was getting one of his own.

“Clark, I want to thank you for trusting me and I want you to know I meant what I said.”

“Obviously not all of it,” Clark muttered.

Chloe stopped a couple of feet from Clark. She blinked a couple of times. He almost looked as if he was pouting. She furrowed her brows. “What?”

Clark lifted his eyes from his boots, sullen anger in them. “I said,” he enunciated as if Chloe were three. “'Obviously, not all of it.'”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Chloe demanded.

“It means,” Clark replied. “That you obviously didn't mean _everything_ you said Friday.”

Chloe's eyes widened again in shock. “Yes, I did! I mean it. I will never betray your secret or anything!”

“But you didn't mean it when you said you still had feelings for me,” Clark shot back.

“Clark, what-”

“Come on, Chloe,” Clark exclaimed. He shrugged his backpack off and closed the distance between them, staring down at her in anger. “You're getting me back for all those times I shot you down, aren't you? Well, then just get over with! No need to spare my feelings!”

“Wow, Clark, you forgot to mention mind-reading was one of your abilities! Why not just finish this conversation for me?!” Chloe yelled back, hands on her hips.

Clark glared at Chloe. “If I'm too _weird_ for you, you should just say so! I need to learn how to deal with rejection anyway. Why not start with my best friend?”

Chloe glared right back at Clark, standing on her tip toes to be at least chin-to-nose with him. “Actually, Clark, what I was _going_ to tell you is that I don't _date_ football players but I will make an exception for a Superhero-to-be!”

“See? That wasn't so hard-” Clark stopped as Chloe's words registered in his mind. Chloe was grinning impishly at him. “What did you say?”

Chloe stepped closer, sliding her arms around Clark's neck. “I _said_ 'I don't date football players but I will make an exception for a Superhero-to-be'.” Chloe fiddled with the hair at the nape of Clark's neck, making sure she had his full attention. “You could never be too _weird_ for me.”

“I'm sorry,” Clark whispered, wrapping Chloe in his arms as he laid his forehead against hers. “I just. . . I don't know what I was thinking.”

“I understand, Clark. Probably every time you saw yourself telling someone, you couldn't see them accepting you. There is nothing you could tell me that would change my opinion of you. _Nothing.”_

“Not even that I actually don't like coffee?”

Chloe pulled back, cocking an eyebrow at him. She tweaked her mouth. “I _guess_ I can learn to live with that.”

Clark smiled and pulled Chloe closer. She already had her face tilted, awaiting his kiss. As Clark met Chloe's lips, a feeling of absolute weightlessness came over him, like he didn't have a care or a burden in the world. He was just a regular teenage boy kissing his girlfriend. For the first time in a long time, he felt free; able to do anything he wanted as long as Chloe was right here with him; as if the sky were the limit.

Chloe pulled back and laid her head against Clark's shoulder. He hugged her tighter as he laid his head on her head, savoring this quiet moment before going and meeting the deafening school hallway. Chloe's grip tightened on his waist. “Uh, Clark?”

“Hmm-mmm?”

“Does this normally happen when you kiss girls?”

“What?”

“ _What?!”_ Chloe looked up and saw Clark's eyes were still closed. “Open your eyes and look!”

Clark's eyes shot open. He didn't notice anything at first. Then, he saw the angle to which the door used to be was off. Clark swallowed and chanced a glance down. Two or three feet of nothing but air were between his feet and the multi-colored tile floor. _“Holy crap.”_ Clark spit out as he turned his eyes back ceiling-ward, not wanting to see the void between his feet and the floor.

“Do you know how to get us down from here?” Chloe asked, not quite as frantic as before.

“Not really,” Clark answered.

“Any ideas?”

Clark shook his head, a little dizzy from his fear of heights.

Chloe gently pulled his head down, laying her forehead against his again where all he could see were her eyes. “We need to figure something out or we're going to be late for Government and I doubt that Mr. will accept walking on air as an excuse,” she told him with a teasing smile.

Clark nodded.

“Maybe it works like Peter Pan,” Chloe ventured. “They thought happy thoughts to fly, they also had pixie dust. Well, it's a lead. Try thinking _un_ happy thoughts, Clark.”

Clark rolled his eyes. “Chloe, we're not in a Disney Movie, if you've noticed.”

“Hey! I don't see _you_ coming up with anything, E.T.!”

Clark laughed. “I'm going to start calling you 'Elliot' just for that comment.”

“Fine by me. I always wanted to be Elliot when I was little. How cool would it be to have an alien as your best friend?” Chloe finished softly.

Clark gazed down at her. “I wish I had told you sooner.”

Chloe shrugged. “Who's to say I would have been ready?”

Chloe and Clark felt their feet gain ground again. Clark felt Chloe breathe a sigh of relief. Chloe giggled. “The next time you want to take me flying, I would appreciate a warning. And a parachute.”

Gathering their bags and Chloe's coffee, Clark took Chloe's hand and walked to the door of the office. Before opening it, he turned back to her. “To answer your question, no, that has never happened with any other girl I kissed.”

Chloe licked her lips. “Not even Lana?” She asked tentatively.

Clark stopped himself from kissing Chloe again, knowing they didn't have time to go air surfing. He leaned down, a whisper from her mouth and said, “You're the only girl who makes me believe I can fly, Chlo.”

 


End file.
